


Moments in the Sun

by shebagirl



Category: Neverwinter Nights
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Love Triangles, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4517961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shebagirl/pseuds/shebagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bishop takes Knight Captain Leona on a much-needed day off.  But when they return, she has to smooth things over with Casavir.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Leona opened her eyes and smiled. Today was one rare day she would have all to herself. Managing the keep takes almost every spare minute, especially since she’s gone so often recruiting allies and keeping the periphery safe. Yesterday after she got back from Highcliff, making allies of the Lizard men, Zhjaeve told her she needed some rest before going out on the road again. It was a tough few fights yesterday, with all the ‘tests’ the Lizards threw at her before agreeing to ally with her group. It challenged her mentally and physically and she had to admit she was spent.   
She stretched, and opened her dark curtains to a sunny, warm day. Damn, she was sore. All her companions used the same weapons all the time, but because she switched between arrows and swords, her whole body hurt from double the muscles used. She was sure Zhjaeve could help her ease the aches. Despite the pain, she smiled again. The day was hers to spend as she pleased. She would dress, deal with papers and business from the keep while she ate, and then time was hers and hers alone. How long had it been since she decided her own fate? How would she choose to spend her day?   
Yes, it was true. She was tired. She wasn’t only the leader of the group, the one who fought the most and made decisions. Because she was also a ranger, she did most of the tracking, too. What she would give to blindly follow someone else on the trails, at least. She could take Bishop along to lead; she trusted him to do that much, at least. But she usually didn’t like to do that. For one thing, their skills overlapped, making it a waste of manpower. She could only take so many people on these trips, and she needed varied strengths. For another, Bishop made her other companions nervous. Most didn’t trust him, and they spent too much time keeping him ‘honest’ and not enough on the task at hand. Bishop didn’t make it any easier with his constant snide barbs. He almost seemed to feed off of making others uncomfortable.  
But there was another reason Leona didn’t like to bring Bishop along. Not long after she’d arrived in Neverwinter, she and Bishop had had a brief – well, an encounter ¬– in one of the storage rooms at her uncle Duncan’s tavern. Wasn’t a big deal, she reminded herself. It wasn’t the first time she’d done something like that, and it wasn’t unusual for adventurers to pass like ships in the night, and move on. They led dangerous lives, and because they worked hard, they played hard too. It just made her uncomfortable now to be around him. She’d never expected back then, that her uncle would have called in some debt to force Bishop to join her party. If she’d known that, she would have stayed away. That’s why she and Casavir were dancing around each other like polarized magnets. There was something there, but they knew there was work to be done, and it couldn’t get in the way.   
She was done with Bishop. But sometimes the way he looked at her sideways, sharing that secret….well, she didn’t like that he held that over her. A few of her companions knew of it, but she didn’t want to make it worse. She knew Bishop was waiting for the right moment to throw their encounter at Casavir. The less time they spent together, the better. And since she usually brought Casavir on her journeys, Bishop stayed home. Leona didn’t have the time to get sentimental right now. She shook her head to clear it, and dressed for the coming day.  
The castle was already bustling, since she’d slept in later than usual; with a stack of papers under her arm, she settled into the dining room alone, to eat and drink while she managed the details. Often she was making these decisions verbally with Kana, walking somewhere else while she signed or talked. Today already felt like a vacation, that she could take her time with this never-ending task. Kana must have told everyone to give her space today; she’d have to remember to thank her.  
“Morning, Captain.” She knew who it was before looking up; no one else named her title with such disdain. She kept her head in her work but said, “Bishop. Didn’t they tell you to stay clear of me today?”  
Bishop didn’t bother to answer her question. “Rumor has it you have a day off. I’m surprised your work ethic allows for such revelry.” Bishop never uttered a word without a mocking tone. Leona briefly wondered what he was like as a child, and when he got so cynical. It must take a lot of energy to look at the world that way all the time, she thought.  
She raised her head. “As you can see, my work ethic compels me right now. What do you want?”  
“I was just wondering what you planned to do with yourself today. Surely a Captain of the Keep has grand plans on a free day.”  
Leona knew enough to never display too much to Bishop. Later he could, and would, use it against her. To tell him she had no plans was not a good idea. “Why?” she asked. “Have something grand in mind, worthy of a captain?”  
She had to admit, looking at him now, she was glad they didn’t spend a lot of time together: she would be constantly tempted by him. His gold-brown eyes were hard to resist. But she had a good beginning with Casavir now, subtle and chaste as it may be. It was the start of something real, maybe, but still not enough yet to pull her in. Not like this. Leona chastised herself for being drawn to the wrong kind of man, but the truth remained.   
“As a matter of fact, I do,” said Bishop. He pulled out a chair and sat a few seats down from Leona, stretching out his legs like a sleepy cat. “This keep isn’t far from where I did some jobs a few years back. Once while tracking some marks, I came across the best spot outdoors for miles. Anyone would think it’s beautiful, but it’s the kind of spot only a ranger could really understand.” He looked at her pointedly. “I’d camp there still if I could, but the damn guards get suspicious if I leave the gates after dark.”  
Leona smiled. “With good reason,” she said, returning to her papers.  
“Anyway,” Bishop continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “the sun is out, and the water will be warm.” He untangled himself from the chairs , leaving them askew, and turned his back on her, heading for the door. “I pass through the farms at 9.”  
Leona couldn’t resist a little jab; she’d gotten so many from him these few months, she’d never catch up. “Why, Bishop,” she said sweetly. “Are you asking me on a date?”  
He snorted a laugh. “Date? I don’t date.” He spit the word as if she’d insulted him. “But you know better than anyone here all the other things I can do.” He turned again and said to the air, “Nine o’clock.”  
Leona rested her head against the last of her papers, at war with herself. She could worry and she could resist, but she knew well she wouldn’t turn Bishop down. No point denying it, or worrying over it. She wasn’t attached to any man, and until she was, she would do as she liked. Her only pause was that Casavir might be hurt, if he found out. On the other hand, he didn’t come looking for her today. Probably obeying Kana’s request, she thought. Also, she had nothing with Casavir, yet. Nothing but glances and properly placed words. They were flirting, and nothing more. Later, when more evolved, Casavir would take her as she was, or he wouldn’t. In this adventuring life, you take it one day at a time, and she knew what she’d do today, at least. Lifting her head again, she sighed, finished her work, and left the papers for Kana. Then, she suited up for a day in the forest.


	2. 2

Two-plus hours of hiking was nothing for a ranger; Leona was surprised how much time had passed since the going was easy and the weather was warm. She’d brought Honus, her bear, along, just for safety. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Bishop; if he ever sold her out, it wouldn’t be this pre-planned. No, it was just her habit to never travel to new places alone. Being with Bishop counted as alone.   
Honus ambled along with Karnwyr behind the humans, though they talked little. When they did it was ranger shop-talk, about arrows and the foliage, the position of the stars this time of year. Leona was a little distressed to find the easy comfort with someone who understood that world. Being a ranger made one connected to their surroundings in a unique way; not having to explain it in words – or even lead the way – was comforting.  
Upon reaching the spot, Leona could see that Bishop didn’t exaggerate. To any eyes, the clearing was perfect, and the warm day made it even finer. The forest opened up to a wide circular clearing, with water circling in a small stream. The stream even started at a small waterfall from the hill, and the water ran through a cave she couldn’t see the end of, though she spied the water flowing in the distance around the hill. Everything was human-sized, not larger than life. This place was approachable, not imposing.  
Anyone might have noticed that there was no sound but the water; anyone might have caught the scent of late-spring wildflowers. Anyone might have seen the prism of light through the waterfall. But Leona’s senses were more acute: she could feel the balance of a place. Standing here, she could sense the life all around here, everything in its place. It was the feeling of a cold drink on a hot day – or a warm drink on a hot day. Just what the body needed to restore. It was like exhaling after holding a breath. Leona realized then how much time she’d spent, lately, in places so out of balance. Caves, hideaways, pillaged towns. With the King of Shadows on the move, everywhere she smelled fear on animals, hell, fear on people. It had been a long time since she’d been to a location just going about its business. She had been starved for this. She had deprived herself of it too long.  
After a long silence, Leona said the only thing to Bishop she could think of: “Thank you.” He didn’t answer. She knew he was drinking it in too, and the silence spoke volumes.  
She took steps around the edge. “It’s been so long – too long – since I breathed this in.”  
“Yeah,” said Bishop. “Don’t I know it.”  
Leona cautiously walked the perimeter, as if measuring. She heard Bishop talking to Karnwyr, and told Honus he could roam for a bit. Seeing those two unlike animals trotting off together was a strange sight, she thought. And yet, here we two are, also very unlike animals. This place trumps all those differences.  
Eventually, after taking the measure of the place, Leona walked to a spot towards the center, where the sun was warm but not hot. She sat and unpacked some food and drink, shaking off her gear. Bishop sat too and did the same.  
“I always wondered what Keep Captains ate for lunch,” he said, more teasing than jabbing. She smiled and said, “it’s not as grand as you imagine, but I’m happy to share it with you. It’s the least I can do after this place.” Leona knew it was a grand gesture for him to take her here. Not romantic, no – she didn’t want that from him, and he was unable to give it. It was more…open. Bishop knew that Leona, unlike most, would never forget how to find this place again. Offering up that permanent piece of himself was big, indeed. She guessed it was more loneliness than love, and that was fine with her.  
Full of wine and drink, Bishop stretched back onto the grass and closed his eyes. Leona packed up the lunch and brought her pack to the water’s edge. She cupped her hand and reached in. Clear and cool, she could see reflections of the clouds. She took a drink and rubbed some water over her face.  
“Going for a swim?” Most people hated the way Bishop seemed to sneak up on them, but he never took Leona by surprise. She sat on the edge and removed her boots.   
“I couldn’t come all this way and not feel the water,” she said. “It’s the clearest I’ve seen in a long time.”  
“No wonder, with a swamp like West Harbor for a home,” he said. “I thought maybe you preferred brown, muddy pools.”  
Leona didn’t take his bait for argument. “Nope,” she said, and undressed down to her cloth underclothes. None of her underclothes were particularly revealing, but she’d decided to forego the soft leather today in case there was water, so the cloth made a perfectly acceptable swim suit. They floated up as she launched herself in, feet first. Paying no attention to her companion, she began to explore the place the same way she had on land.   
The waterfall was off to the back left, the cave just off of it. She couldn’t see to the other side, but it was shorter than her height, and the water was deep. Where she stood, the water came just to her chest, but it shallowed at the waterfall and deepened again at the cave mouth.   
She heard the water open behind her and knew Bishop was behind. “Come here,” he said, moving ahead of her. “Look at this.”  
Leona saw him walk under the waterfall, to a spot just left of the cave. There, he was almost perfectly sheltered from the flow above him, but he reached out his hand to feel it. Funny how he had such a tender touch with nature. If you saw him with Karnwyr you would think he was the most sensitive man. With people, he wasn’t so good. She followed him to the water’s clearing. No water reached them from above other than a soft mist in the wake of the water falling from above.  
“Amazing,” she said, wondering at the perfect respite from the water flow. Where walking into the clearing was that sensory overload – luckily one of balance this time – this spot brought a reprieve for the senses. All input was cancelled out, because the world was blocked in every way. No sound, no sight, no smell, no taste. No wind, no sun. In its void, it became everything. She leaned against the rock wall, and looked above at the colorless water.  
The space was small, and she noticed then that their bodies were touching. Yes, this spot in the stream blacked out sound, sight, smell, and taste. But still, there was touch. Much in the way blind men often hear very well, with no other senses to distract her, her sense of touch was all there was. Suddenly she was very conscious of that closeness. Still, she did not move, and kept her head turned to the sky she couldn’t see through the water.  
Since touch was all she could sense, when Bishop’s hand reached around her neck, it seemed the only sensation in the world. She opened her eyes sharply. That time, he had surprised her; she had nothing to sense him with. By the time her eyes focused, he had shifted her to face him in the small space. There was nothing she could think of to say. She was grateful to be here; it showed on her face. Desire quickly washed over the gratitude as he roughly slanted his mouth to hers. Though she knew that, too, was coming, she wasn’t prepared for the flush of desire coursing through her. She kissed him back with passion, letting out all these months of sensory overload in unbalanced places. Here, she could let go, and she meant to.   
Leona reached her arms around his chest and felt the misty water behind him. She relaxed into his kiss, instinctively pushed back into the force of his body and the hard rock behind her. Her tongue met his, and danced with it. Leona was sure that if she opened her eyes, she would actually see lust swirling around them. Maybe this place dulled the senses, but her appetite wasn’t dulled one bit.   
As their mouths met again and again, Bishop pinned her against the rock with the length of his body. He reached one hand up her wet cloth shift, and reached the other down to pull off her underwear. Leona arched her head back as far as it would go, and rubbed her hands up and down his back in encouragement. She had missed this. Long days on the road with no connection, focused on mission after mission…his mouth recharged her as if with solar light. She felt the lengths of their bodies rocking together, and she pulsed with fire as Bishop reached behind her and pulled her lower body to crash into his groin. She could feel his hardness and knew he was ready for her, but would draw it out. In the world outside, making others squirm and suffer was his strongpoint – in a bad way. Here, it worked for both of them. She pushed herself into him and stayed close, as if glued.  
He turned his head to kiss down the line of her ear and neck. As his tongue explored around her ear he reached his other hand down her back. She shivered from the touch and dug her nails into his back. She moaned up into the roar of the waterfall, sound instantly muted.   
With a ranger’s expert ears, Bishop had heard her, and he spoke into her ear. “No one can hear you.”  
She took his head in her hands, and looked into his light brown eyes. “So?”  
“That means you can scream as much as you want.” Leona knew he was remembering that night in the stockroom, when she had to keep from making too much noise by burying her head in his neck, or biting him.   
“Make me.”   
Bishop met her eyes. “Oh, I think I can.” He lowered his head and licked, explored, teased, all the way down to her naval. He made sure not to miss an inch around her breasts, pulling and licking each nipple erect as he covered her with hands and mouth. Leona reached her hands out straight, and could touch the edge of the waterfall above them. She lowered herself a little, tried to pull him back to her mouth, but his strong arms reached up and held her in place. She had to admit, it felt good to have someone else in charge. All day every day she gave orders, and people followed them without question. What a treat on her one day off, to let someone else take the lead. She let him pin her to the rock as his mouth reached the water line, just below her belly button.   
Before she could focus another thought, Bishop released her, and led with his thumbs and fingers down to the water line. He took a deep breath, and disappeared. By the time Leona looked down, his mouth was on her under the water. She jumped as if electrified, pinning herself back to the rock. Bishop’s hands and mouth were all there, rolling from the insides of her thighs to the center of her desire. The pleasure was almost too much, all her senses spinning, but he kept his arms in place holding her thighs apart. She vaguely thought about how long he could hold his breath, but time had no meaning and the thought passed. Soon Bishop emerged from the water with a great splash, and in its wake his mouth landed on hers again, both of them panting between kisses.   
“Did you scream yet? I couldn’t hear it.”  
She smiled. “Nah. Try again, I guess.”  
He chuckled back. This time leading with his hands, he kept his mouth on hers while running each finger over thigh and pelvis. Her instinct pushed her against him, and at that moment he plunged down again, meeting her thrust with his mouth underwater. This time he got his wish. Her moan turned to shout as his fingers and tongue thrust in and out of her. With no body to grab Leona clawed the rocks around her, feeling for something steady to hold while her body came undone. Just at the edge of deepest pleasure, just when she felt unzipped from the inside, Bishop’s movement slowed. A tease. Who could mind when the teasing felt this good?  
Bishop’s fingers took over as he raised up again. One look at her and he knew he had brought her just to the edge but not over. His face moved close to hers. “I heard that,” he teased in a sing-song voice.   
Leona’s breath was coming in pants and sighs, thick between pleasure and desire. “Tell me you’re not done with me yet.”  
He shook his head, and water sprayed behind him. “No, no, no. You’ve got the whole day off, don’t you?”


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waterfall continued

Instead of answering, she reached for him again. He pulled her along to an edge of the stream, where the mist from the waterfall was at its least. The ground under water was rocky, easy to lean on, and comfortably shallow like a tub. The day was warm enough that the chill out of the water wasn’t much, but Leona slipped in the stream to her neck anyway. Bishop leaned back comfortably against the rock bed, as if settling into a couch. She slid to him. “My turn,” she said.  
“I won’t say no,” he said.  
Leona moved her head to his, then turned to lick down the line of his neck and across his bare chest. Bishop had very little hair there; she ran her fingers over his smooth upper body, stopping to tease each nipple with fingers and tongue. She reached her arms up, breathed in, and disappeared into the stream.   
The water was clear enough to see while under, but she closed her eyes anyway, focusing on only her sense of touch. She’d done exercises like this while training, focusing on one sense over all others to strengthen tracking and battling skills. This was no different. She wrapped her hands around the length of him, and exhaled slow bubbles while kissing and licking all around the soft sac under his hardness. With a deeper exhale so as not to take in more water, she pulled him inside her mouth as if swallowing him whole. She clamped down with her lips, keeping hands moving up , down, and behind. In and out, up and down she went, until she felt her air shortening. She exhaled the last of her breath while moving up to the surface, her mouth never leaving his skin as if he were steel and she was magnet.   
Bishop was wiry and slight compared to some heroes, but his body was strong and muscular, from years of training as a ranger and assassin. There was nothing soft about Bishop, in either his body or his demeanor. Leona took her time appreciating every inch of his body with her tongue before their lips met again.  
When she rose up to meet him, Leona was pleasantly surprised to see that Bishop no longer wore his half-bored, smug expression. He was wet all over from water and sweat, and his face was free of the simmering rage that usually clouded it. “What now?” he managed between deep breaths. Bishop would never, ever admit need, and probably wouldn’t admit when he was satiated, either. You needed a strong ego to put up with it, she realized, and she had it. She didn’t need flowery words or compliments. His body would tell her what words didn’t.   
Leona stared at him. “I only know I don’t want to go home yet,” she said.   
“Come here.” She went.   
“Turn around,” he said. She turned.  
“Shut your eyes.” Instead of following instructions, she turned her head towards him, to meet his eyes. With both hands, he grabbed the sides of her head and turned it away.  
“Bishop,” she said. “The last time you tried to boss me around like this I pulled a knife on you. You don’t remember?”  
“That won’t happen this time.”  
“No?”  
“No.”  
She felt a little spark of pride war with her desire. Damn it. She didn’t want to fight with Bishop today. Suddenly she felt vulnerable here with him, and wanted to be Captain again, in charge of things.  
“What makes you so sure?” she asked. She tried to turn her head again but he kept hold of it with his hands, and brought his lips close to hear ear.  
“One, because your knives are over there.” He turned her head towards their pile of clothes at the water’s edge. “And two,” he said as he pushed her body with his, up against the rocks, “Because you want me too much.”  
That little spark of pride wanted to disagree. She could get out of the water now and walk away, if she really wanted to. But she also could tell that Bishop sensed her tension, and he was offering her a small truce, strange as it seemed. He pushed against her gently with his body, as if asking her for permission. He wasn’t forcing her; he was waiting for her to let him force her. She recognized the difference, and her body relaxed. She sighed, letting out all the tension, relaxed the muscles in her face, and reached behind their bodies to hold him from behind.   
Leona put her head down, and he released his grip. She pulled him closer in from behind. “If you want me to want you that much,” she said, “you’re going to have to get closer to me.”  
“If I were any closer to you,” said Bishop, “I’d be inside you.”  
Leona said nothing. Bishop said nothing. That one moment of desire, before the contact they knew was coming, was agonizing and seemed never-ending. Bishop’s hands rolled down her front until even with her hips; she let out her breath in a slow stream, as if enduring pain. He reached up with one hand to push against her back, leaning her over until she had to grab the grassy edge in front of her for support. With his other hand he reached between her legs, and then thrust inside her.   
The contact they both knew was coming still seemed like a surprise. Leona let out a cry, head arching back. Bishop moaned as he reached an arm around her, body arching in and out in perfect rhythm. He controlled the pace, speeding up and slowing down whenever he felt like it. As he slowed, he reached into the water with cupped hands, then dropped the water down Leona’s neck and back, licking some of it off as he sped his pace again. The combination of the water and his tongue brought her farther and farther away from the world around her, the world of decisions and taking and giving orders, and killing and mourning. Leona lost herself in the sensations, making the most of the pleasure. The less she thought, the more she felt, until her body felt like it could burst from the pressure building inside her. Heat coursed through her, groin to toes, until all sensations exploded. She arched her back and cried out into the clear air, releasing all the months of tension she’d endured.   
Feeling her tense around him, and hearing her delicious release, Bishop too lost himself in the sensation and came inside her, enjoying her body’s tightness and slow liberation. They slowed their rhythmic pace, both only conscious of breath, and sweat. Slowly Leona’s senses crept in, sharper than ever. She first felt the water swirling around her lower body, and Bishop’s body, next to her now, barely close enough to touch. The sun was warm on overheated skin; there were a dozen shades of green in the forest ahead. She heard fluttering steps in the distant hills behind them, and recognized it as the bear and wolf’s lumbering steps. The waterfall, before soft and misty, seemed to roar in her ears. She knew Bishop experienced the same sensory overload, and resisted the urge to touch him again.  
After a few minutes of silence, the awkwardness slowly began. There would be no snuggling or words of love; neither of them craved it, but it was customary, and nothing comes in easily to take its place. Leona waded up to Bishop’s lounging body, and watched him for a minute. His eyes were closed as he reclined against the edge, arms out as if sunbathing. He knew she was right there, but didn’t flinch.   
Leona reached in and kissed him lightly just below his neck. Then she waded back to another corner of the streaming pool, reclined, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t a game of wills; it was two people who had shared a short-term common goal. Each had served a purpose, and the moment was gone, leaving satisfied release in its glow.  
Bishop, she knew, would ruin it somehow. He would use it against her, hurt her, embarrass her. It was what he did. But she pushed the thoughts away for now. It wouldn’t have changed her mind; he gave her something today that he couldn’t take back. He shared a place with her, and managed to be vulnerable. For Bishop that was quite a lot. Focusing on her body in a type of meditation, Leona relaxed into the water and paid attention to her senses, not her thoughts. She stayed there until she lost track of time, basking in her body’s glow.   
Sometime later, she heard Bishop pulling his belongings together, in his usual gruff way. He was getting ready to leave.  
Finally, he spoke. “Well, Captain?” He said the word with its usual disdain. Yes, they were back to their old roles.  
“Yes?” Leona didn’t open her eyes.   
“You coming or staying?”  
“Staying. I want to be away as long as I can today.” Back at the Keep, she would surely be met at the gates with a string of duties; why rush home for that? Dusk was coming, not that traveling at night mattered to them. But neither of them wanted to return to the keep together. The walk back would have been uncomfortable.  
“Well,” said Bishop, “I’m heading out.” She opened her eyes. The sun glinted off his still-wet hair, face beautiful but for the ever-present scowl. He walked over to where she lay, and kneeled down to be closer to her. Someone else might have missed it, but for the smallest second Leona thought she saw tenderness. He backed away from it, both physically and mentally, rising up off his knee almost as quickly as he knelt. She could have called him on it, teased and embarrassed him; she stayed silent instead. What would she gain by making him cringe away from what little affection he could show? She watched him as he stood up and turned to leave.  
After taking a few steps, he stopped and turned her way. “I won’t stay with you, you know.”  
Leona always took her time interpreting his words. Surely he knew that she didn’t want some kind of commitment from him. “Meaning?”  
He paused, then took his trademark deep breath before speaking. “Meaning, don’t expect to see me next to you in those final days.”  
She took a moment and measured his words. This was not a surprise to her. Actually she was surprised he’d stayed as long as he had. “I know,” she said. Then she met his eyes for a long while, deliberately. “It’s too bad,” she said, with a bit of tease in her voice. Those three words were full of promise, as if inviting him back into the pool.  
“Yeah. It’s too damn bad.”  
Another pause, then he took a breath and spoke again.  
“You know, girl, life isn’t all rainbows and happiness.”  
“Yes, I know that, Bishop,” Leona said. She looked at him pointedly. “But there are moments that are.”  
He nodded ever so slightly. “Yeah. Moments are all we’ve got.”  
With that, he turned and left, without a backward glance. Leona closed her eyes and eased back into the pool. When she’d soaked until she was bored, she opened her eyes again. Alone as far as she could see, she emerged and packed her things. She smiled in spite of herself. Things were bound to get tough; she was likely to die, and was sure there were things out there worse than death itself. But she had moments. Moments to carry her through the coming storm, come what may.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the keep; don't expect Bishop to be discreet.

Leona got back to the Keep before dusk. As expected, Kana was waiting there with a report and stack of papers to sign, regiments to divide. There were three townsfolk from neighboring farms asking for help, and Master Veedle was waiting in the library with plans to review. After completing her many tasks, Leona headed to the pub to catch up with her companions, and get a bite to eat. She didn’t feel like being alone now, though she often took meals in the keep dining room, in solitude.  
Her companions were happy to see her; they were all there, including Bishop. He kept his distance, nodding to her as usual when she crossed his path. Casavir was off to the side talking about the layout of the Neverwinter Blacklake district with Sir Nevalle.   
Leona and her companions talked lightly about plans for the next day. They were headed to visit the Ironfist clan, and Khelgar was confident they would return with strong allies. They were discussing who else they would take along when Neeshka asked what she’d done that day. Leona expected the question, and was ready with a vague response.  
“Bishop had a few ranger techniques to share, so we went East for some tracking practice.”  
“Better to learn all you can from him, lass, and then leave him behind. I don’t mind sayin’ I don’t trust ‘im,” said Khelgar.  
Neeshka saw through the vague. As a natural liar, she was quick to spot evasion in others. “Ranger techniques, huh? Like what?”  
Bishop strode up, and Leona stiffened. The look on his face was of someone about to have fun at another’s expense. Here it comes, she thought. She expected she’d be the target this time.  
“Yeah, I had a lead on a potential ally to the East. Wanted to take the Captain to check it out. Didn’t pan out, though, did it, Captain?”  
Leona understood this game. Bishop had put her in the uncomfortable position of either having to lie or tell the truth. She wanted to do neither, and he knew it. She felt she was being tested, and in that case she always went with her gut. This time truth was in her gut. She steadied herself and met Bishop’s eyes while she spoke.  
“Oh, I think the lead definitely did pan out.” Leona turned away from him and towards her companions. “Bishop took me today to a beloved place of his. He wanted to show it to me. While there he said some very kind and romantic words, the likes of which you wouldn’t have believed, coming from his usually snide mouth.”  
Rage lit up his eyes; he did a decent job of swallowing it to take aim again. Leona felt she hadn’t lied: for Bishop, those gestures and words were romantic. She didn’t see the point of leaving out only the details that would spare him, when he was the one who got them into this conversation in the first place.  
A few of the companions’ eyes turned to Casavir. Everyone knew of his interest in Leona, and everyone guessed she felt the same, although her previous dalliances with Bishop, and his forcefulness, was a roadblock to an otherwise straight-forward courtship. They all knew pretty much everything that went on, even when left unsaid. Bishop caught their glances, and seized the chance to thrust the knife in deeper.  
“Oh now, don’t worry, paladin. She’s all yours if you want her. I made it clear I’m not going to stick around; it’s not my style. Besides,” he said as he turned to leave, throwing a glance back at Leona, “I have a policy never to sleep with the same woman more than twice.” He nodded to Sal the bartender, and chuckled to himself all the way out the door.  
“Too bad,” added Qara. “Three times is usually the charm.”  
Neeshka snickered. Leona shook her head, and laughed with them for a quick moment. What else was there to do? “Well,” she sighed. “Who’s going to ease my embarrassment and buy me an ale?”  
This, thought the companions at the same time, is why Leona is a natural leader. She doesn’t let life phase her, or shake her, the way so many of us would. Casavir, having heard all, eyed her from the other end of the pub. She knew she’d have some damage control to do, but she couldn’t apologize for the time she’d had today. Life is already so fleeting and short, she thought. My life will probably be shorter than most. She felt lucky enough to have no obligations, and didn’t want to apologize for that. Ammon Jerro bought her an ale, they all put their mugs up, and then she made the seemingly endless walk to Casavir, to piece together his heart.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confronting Casavir

Leona had to do some damage control, and fast. She and Khelgar were headed to the Ironfist clan tomorrow, and he’d requested that they bring Casavir and Sand along. In his words, “They’re the least crazy among us, lass.” She kind-of agreed, but kept it to herself. “At the least,” she’d replied, “the least likely to offend your clan.” So there it was. She had to figure out how to mend up Casavir’s feelings in just a few hours, or it was going to be a long trek down to the Ironfist caves. She strode over to his table. Sir Nevalle was already getting out of his seat when she got there; they exchanged pleasantries and he said his goodbyes. He’s sure good at reading people, she thought. Guess that’s how you get to be one of the Neverwinter Nine. Reading Casavir wasn’t easy, but she knew him well enough to know he’d be upset after Bishop’s barbs. Truth was, she was surprised he hadn’t bounded out of his chair and challenged him right then and there. He seemed to think protecting her honor was his job.  
“Casavir.”   
“Knight Captain.” The way Bishop said her title dripped with sarcasm. Casavir’s tone hurt more. It was fully respectful, and flat. As if they’d just met. Ouch.  
Leona’s mind raced. She didn’t owe him an apology, and didn’t want to be belligerent. Was there another way to come to terms?  
“I have a question for you.”  
His eyes looked up from his ale, surprised. He too had expected either a plea for forgiveness, or a combative remark.  
“Yes?”  
“Khelgar wants you with us tomorrow for the Ironfist mission. Will you come?”  
“Yes.”  
Well, this wasn’t going as planned. One-word answers weren’t going to break down the wall. She paused.  
“Will you be able to do your job while angry at me?”  
“Who says I’m angry with you, Milady?”  
“Come on, Casavir, it’s written all over your face. Bishop’s a jerk and everyone knows it.”  
He stared at her, as if trying to figure out a puzzle. “How could you care for that…that…” He struggled for a word low enough to describe what he thought of Bishop.  
Leona’s first instinct was to defend Bishop, or herself. She could say something like as Captain it was her duty to care for all people, to which Casavir would ask if she was sleeping with all of them, too. She could say she didn’t care for him, which would be a lie. She could say nothing, and that too would be trouble.  
“It’s over. Behind me.” She reached for his hand across the table, which was new because they rarely touched. As she reached she was thinking it funny that she never felt Bishop’s hand in hers, ever. Even today when he was showing her something, he pulled her along, or ordered her forward. Oh yes, his hands were on her; she knew what they were like. But hand-holding was for lovers. It was for hope, and future, and all the things she couldn’t afford right now. She pulled back and looked up. “I’m looking ahead now. Will you come with me?”  
“I said I would.”  
“No, I don’t mean tomorrow. I mean as I look ahead, away from today.”  
He looked her square in the eyes. “I don’t know. Now I really don’t know, anymore.”  
“I don’t blame you,” she said. She shook her head, then, contrite. “I suppose I seem dirty to you now. You just have to understand that…”  
“No,” he interrupted her. “No, that’s not it. No.” He glanced towards the door. “In fact, I think you probably made him cleaner.” It was a kind thing to say, a big thing. It begged for the same, and Leona chose her words carefully.   
“I’m so very sorry if I hurt you, Casavir.” She wouldn’t apologize for the day; it was glorious.   
“I believe you. But you can’t take it back.”  
“I wouldn’t.”  
He studied her again, puzzled.  
“I see.”  
“But like I said, it’s behind me.”   
He stood. “I…I have some thinking to do. I’m going to the temple. Tell Khelgar I will be ready tomorrow, hammer and shield in hand.”  
“Pray for our souls,” Leona said.  
“I will,” he said, “but I’m going there to pray for my own.” His face blank as usual, he nodded to the companions and left without another word. Leona squared her shoulders, grabbed his half-full ale, and joined the gossip of the companions. Playing this role was hard work, and she was back to it in earnest. She was talking and listening, but her mind was on the waterfall, the feel of Bishop’s hands holding her still, and Casavir’s sad eyes.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casavir heads to the temple

Casavir headed for the Temple of Tyr at a near run. He'd had about all he could take tonight, with watching Leona get insulted by that...that...he still couldn't think of a word to call Bishop. He kept imagining her with him, and it made him sick to think of it. How could she want him? How could she let someone like that touch her? He had to get to the only place he felt safe.  
The temple was at the West End of the Keep. Leona had chosen to build it from among a few choices, and made it subtly clear that she'd done it for him. It was a great gift to have a temple so close after so many months away, fighting orcs in the mountains. It had been a symbol of her love, and now...nothing seemed to make sense.   
Casavir nodded to Ivarr, who could tell from his usually unreadable face that he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. Since the temple had opened, Casavir was its most frequent visitor, also giving much of his earned gold to its maintenance. Ivarr had set aside a special room for Casavir to pray in, alone. Tyr was not a distant God, and was known to speak to his loyal followers when they needed temperance in their lifepaths. Casavir hoped he would get some guidance tonight.  
He locked his room and knelt before the altar, trying to clear his mind. It was nearly impossible to meditate when visions of Leona with Bishop were flying around his head, but Casavir was nothing if not self-disciplined, and after some time he managed to empty his thoughts and connect to the empty space where he could converse with his God.   
"Oh Tyr the Even-Handed, I beg of you. Help me through this chaotic sadness." Casavir knew his problem wasn't just jealousy. Everyone feels that at one time or another, and he was no stranger to that, either. What ate at him was the surety that he would love Leona no matter what. He knew she didn't mean to hurt him now, but all the same he couldn't turn off his feelings for her. Even if she had meant to hurt him, or if in the future she ever did, his emotions wouldn't stray. He was hers, and he hated and pitied himself for his lack of resolve.   
Are you that unsure of what you offer, Katalmach?   
"She could have chosen me, and she did not. She could have..." Casavir's usually thick walls were eroding, and he curled up his body and started to cry. Not sobs or simple tears, but body-shaking gulps of air as if he'd lost his will to live. He would never, ever be able to erase what Bishop had done. He would never be able to touch Leona knowing that Bishop's hands had been all over her. Aye, he already had trouble just looking at her. How could one hold out hope for such love when he could never erase what she'd done? What she'd chosen to do, on her one free day. The sobs kept coming, repeating a cycle where he hated himself more for it, and cried, and hated, and cried. He cried until his lungs ached, and only then did hear Tyr again in his ears.  
What do you seek of me, my wayward Child? Tyr was the fairest of dieties, granting resolve to those who asked. Casavir felt a rush of self-loathing at his doubt that even Tyr could guide him now.  
"How can she be the woman I loved? How can someone I love care for someone so foul?"  
Again I ask you, Katalmach. Do you not see what you can offer her? Do you not see your own worth?  
"And what can she offer me now that I know what she craves? What part of her needs a man like that? How could I ever please her, be all that she needs?"  
Moments passed in silence, as Tyr left Casavir to ponder his own question. He kept coming up empty, but his sobs slowed, and he aimed for control of his emotions.  
Your vulnerability is a great gift. You might share that with her. If she loves you truly she will welcome it.  
It had never occurred to Casavir to be anything other than her protector. He'd admitted to her that in battles he was becoming more focused on her safety than the mission. He was endangering himself, and now Tyr was suggesting he tolerate, nay, encourage, this weakness?  
Your vulnerability is a great gift. The message was clear. Casavir couldn't yet see his way to the meaning of it, and his mind wandered back to decoding Leona's choice today. Why him, why today?  
He is a ranger, as is she. He is a harbourman, as is she. Would you deny her the chance to ground herself in tastes of home?  
"Tastes of home? She TASTED him?" Casavir's roar echoed through the tiny room, ringing in his own ears. His tears were done, and his anger was all that was left.   
"I have to let her go. I concede and Bishop wins. I can't be with her after she's shared all this with him. Him, an assasin and betrayer. There is no other way."  
Tyr spoke once more before disappearing for the night. Those of pure heart who repeat the sins of evil find Heaven on the other side of darkness.  
Casavir scrambled to decode the words, to find hope amisdt the cryptic. If I were Bishop, he thought, I'd say thanks for nothing. Tyr had always come through for him. Dare he trust there would be Heaven on the other side of this darkness? He couldn't bear to hope, and was too tired to find it tonight. He dried his eyes, curled up under the altar, and fell asleep for the night, in the only place he felt safe to dream.


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casavir confronts Leona

The next few days were painful for all. Though Khelgar pretended not to notice, and Sand genuinely didn't care, tensions were strained while Leona and her team visited the Ironfist clan to seek their support. As usual with allies, the transaction wasn't one simple conversation: there were giants, mountains, rolling boulders, and a red dragon who left them all within an inch of their lives. Leona was bone-tired. She felt as if she'd died and come back a hundred times, counting her muscles by the number of aches. They were out of healing potions and had no time to rest before making way back to the Ironfist clan with proof of Khelgar's status as leader. Only then did they convice the clan, gain the allies, and make it all worth it.   
Leona exhaled all the way home. They would need every allly in the coming battles; she should be happy. But the extra emotional toll traveling with Casavir was almost too much. They did their jobs well, circling around each other more formally than before. The subtle words and innuendoes were gone. Leona figured he'd given up on her; he had every right. She knew she'd hurt him by choosing Bishop that day, and hurt him again by telling him she wasn't sorry. At least she'd told him the truth, and he could take or leave her. Looked like he was leaving her. Lucky for her she didn't have much time to pine over it, since they'd been fighting and tracking non-stop since they left the Keep about a week before.  
Leona all but staggered to her chambers, where Zhjave met her with a series of spells and potions to keep her comfortable. Leona felt the buzz of having had too much magic this week, and thought she could sleep a thousand years. But every minute counted now, and she got only one good night's rest before waking up to fortify the Keep. Zhjave warned her to rest. "Know that only a fully recharged body can handle the trials to come." There was still much to do.  
Before riding out to meet the King of Shadows' followers, Leona had much business around the Keep to attend to, and she threw herself into it. With no time to rest, she'd also have no time to miss the Casavir she could have known. She barely saw Bishop, barely saw anyone, really; she split up the team into various posts, keeping only Bevil with herself. He was all that was left of home, and reminding each other of simpler days, they kept on.  
Casavir also worked hard. He found, though, that he was more distracted without Leona than when they were together. On the long trips through the mountains, he'd often wished she'd be out of his sight, and looked forward to coming back to the Keep to rest in his temple room.   
Once back, his loneliness threatened to drive him mad. He imagined that Leona was with Bishop every night, that they mocked him together. He thought he heard people laughing at him everywhere he went. He had to admit, his pride was broken along with his heart. Everyone knew that Bishop had managed to conquer the Knight Captain. He was left with nothing, and it tortured him.  
As the days passed, Casavir found less and less release in his work. The companions noticed his outward demeanor slip as he snapped at people, ignored them as if he were somewhere else, and generally acted very un-paladin-like. Elanee tried to talk to him, but he waved her away, saying she wasn't the woman who could help him. "At least seek some peace tonight," she cautioned. "Find where you can release your energy. You are on a dangerous path, that paladins cannot afford to take."   
Casavir tried to forget Tyr's words, but they echoed in him. Was his heart pure any longer? To Leona, only. What had Tyr meant? What sins was he fated to repeat?  
Night came, and as usual those days Leona retired early. There were no more gatherings at the pub, and the mood was slowly darkening as everyone sensed the big battles ahead. They would meet the following day to talk strategy, and she would choose who would accompany her out to blow up the bridges, to prevent the undead army from crossing.  
Though she wasn't asleep, the sun was long down when the knock sounded at her door. She notched an arrow, unlocked the door, and called across the room for the visitor to enter. Casavir squinted as his eyes adjusted to the low light, looking around for her. She put away her arrow and shut the door behind him.  
"Is there danger? What has happened?" Her body stayed tensed, prepared for attack.  
"There is no danger. I've come...for you."  
Leona studied him in the light. He looked undone, unkempt, in frightening ways. Circles under his eyes belied his sleepless nights, and his usually polished hair was frayed. He wore no armor, and carried only a small weapon. She prayed she hadn't done this to him as she watched him sway on his feet.  
"Casavir, have you been drinking? Are you...do you need healing? Shall I call Zhjave?"  
"No, I am well. I will be well. I am sorry, Leona. I can't stop thinking of..."  
She had done this to him. And she didn't know what to do next. What could help him now that she'd shattered his heart and pride? She reached out to him, hands touching cloth instead of hard, cold armor. "What can I do?" she asked, sure there was no easy answer.  
There was. Casavir winced as he confessed, "I need to know...I have to know what he did to you. Tell me what he did to you."  
Leona stared at him, not understanding. He wanted to hear about her time with Bishop? It didn't make any sense. She opened her mouth, and closed it again. What did he want to hear?  
He lunged at her, pushing her against the door. "Tell me what he DID TO YOU!," he bellowed, face above hers.  
"Casavir, you're hurting me. Please let go." He crumpled away from her, catching his breath. "Why do you want to know this?"  
He quickly regained what little control he had left, and tried to speak normally. "Did he kiss you?"  
"Yes, but..."  
He topped her mid-sentence with his mouth, pulling her into him with an abandon she didn't think he had. Was he safe to be around? Was he stable? Her thoughts melted away as she found herself relaxing into his kiss. How many times had she wondered what his body looked like, felt like?  
Casavir ended their kiss abruptly, with Leona's face still turned upward towards his. "Did he kiss you all around your body? Did his tongue lick your chest?"  
Her voice was small. "Yes, he did, but I don't see..."  
Again he broke her words off with his mouth, and moved down the length of her neck to the top of her chest. So much had happened since her day with Bishop that Leona remembered more glow and less substance; but she knew that Casavir's touch was both more tender and more raw. He pulled at her bodice until it bent off her, and continued down her chest to touch and lick her breasts. She leaned her head back against the door, not wanting him to stop. But she still didn't understand why he was here, and didn't want to hurt him further.  
Casavir licked, teased, and pinched until he had covered every inch of her breasts, and Leona's desire rose like a dull ache. He asked between ragged breaths, "What did he do next?"  
She shook her head, jolted from her desire. "I don't know, there was water, he went under the...wait a minute." It was dawning on her. She pulled Casavir to his full height above her, and looked him square in the face. "Do you mean for me to redo this whole thing...with you?"   
"Not exactly," he replied. "I mean for me to redo it with you. That's different. And it's the only thing that will heal me."  
Leona frowned. "That's positively absurd. How can that heal you?"  
He took a breath, and tried to explain. "If I am ever to...have feelings for...to feel comfortable..."  
She smiled at him, and flustered him all over again.  
"Leona. I could never touch you if...it's just that I see his handprints all over you. I won't rest until I replace them with mine."  
"Then you won't rest. This isn't fair to Bishop or myself."  
Casavir backed up a step. "I know he means nothing to you. Would you risk all future with me by denying me this one gift?"  
She stayed silent a moment. Then she narrowed her eyes. "You will be repeating his sins. Do you want that on your conscience, paladin?"  
Something she said snapped Casavir back to that night in the temple. What was it that Tyr had said? Was this what he had to do to learn to love her again? Was there Heaven on the other side of this darkness?  
Those of pure heart who repeat the sins of evil find Heaven on the other side of darkness.  
"My heart is pure," he said.  
Leona reached up to his head. "Then let me show you the first sin," she said.


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Resolution?

Leona stood pinned against her chamber door, much the way she was pinned against the rock with Bishop that day. She pushed Casavir's head down below her breasts and he instinctively licked her skin all around her belly button, and down to her thighs. He pulled down her bottoms as he kissed lower and lower. When she leaned forward, he pushed her back against the door, much the same way Bishop had. Uncanny, she thought. And how can Casavir be rougher, more raw, tonight?  
She pushed against the top of his head, and he caught the hint. Moving his mouth down between her legs, and placing his hands against her thighs, he licked and nuzzled until she was pushing towards him, her body begging for more contact. Her pleasure rose and rose as his fingers worked with tongue, but she stopped him and brought him back up for kisses. What he wanted tonight wasn't just her pleasure; there would be other nights for that. Tonight there was a script.  
Leona pushed Casavir towards her bed, and as he lay down she pulled off his clothes, and kissed down his chest. She took a moment to admire him. So this was Casavir, who put barriers of armor and demeanor between himself and everyone. His vulnerability was his gift to her. She lifted her lips to his and met his tongue, lingering there far longer than she expected to. Kissing him while feeling their bodies pressed together was treat enough, and she knew there was much more of the script to follow.   
She tore herself away from his mouth and swept her tongue down his neck, his chest, and around his nipples, while reaching below to find his hardness with her hand. Farther down she went until her mouth met her hands, finding all the tender spots around his groin. Placing her mouth around him, she sucked and licked, reaching up with her hands to feel his upper body writhe in rhythm with her mouth. After a few minutes of the sweet torture she pulled up and turned away from him.  
"Come here," she said. And he went.  
Leona leaned against her bed, and put her hands up on the mattress. She looked around behind her expectantly. Casavir stared, marveling at her beauty. He had waited so long for her, trying to do the right thing, and as his jealousy waned it dawned on him that he was finally here with her, and she willingly would take him. He had to admit he'd forgotten the rage that brought him to her room, forgotten that he was erasing her past by making it his present. The pleasure of finally being with her, of having her so close, trumped all. But suddenly the memory crashed back to him, and the sadness broke like a wave. He shook his head as if awakening from a spell.  
"He had you...from behind? He didn't want to look at your face? You didn't want to look at his?"  
Leona didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing.  
"I...this is our first time together. I want to look at you. I...I can't do that. Not tonight."  
Leona watched him standing there, broken and wanting. She positively ached for him. “Pure heart, indeed,” she said. Keeping her eyes on his, she slowly eased up on to the bed, and lied down on her back. She said nothing more, but reached her arms up, eyes never leaving his.   
"Thank you," he said. Then he eased on top of her, and that's when they stopped having sex, and started making love. 

(the end)


End file.
